It Was An Accident, I Swear
by slampora
Summary: Dave and Rose get super drunk, Dave has no concept of his strength, hilarity and sex ensue.


**A/N: I have no idea what kind of AU this is I'm sorry. Also this title sucks, but I really could not be bothered to think of another one.**

On most nights, Rose Lalonde sat on her couch, knit, and drank alone. On Tuesday nights, she sat on her couch, knit, and drank with the added benefit of having Dave Strider to keep her company. She called their little meetings "stich and bitch", which was actually a really accurate description of what they did. Dave would work on a screenplay and Rose pulled out what was possibly the longest unfinished scarf in existence and they turned off the Wi-Fi in her apartment and they existed only in each other's company. Rose had her supply of vodka, and Dave had one light beer, which even if nursed for hours still managed to get him plastered, and it was enjoyable for both of them. Most nights, they would talk for ages, fight, fall asleep on her couch, and wake up smelling like stale booze and each other.

On one such evening, Rose was particularly unbearable. "I am actually freaking out", Rose said, taking a swig from her bottle. Dave grunted and continued typing. "I was hooking up with this guy right, and his shitty university condom broke, and he starts panicking and actually asked me to marry him, like, immediately after," She continued. Dave sighed and shut his laptop. "Rose, I'm pretty sure that there is no fucking way for you to be pregnant with a human baby. The kid probably never had a condom break on him before," he said. Rose wrinkled her nose, "Don't call him a kid. It makes me feel gross." He shook his head and replied, "What I don't understand is why you didn't just tell him you were on birth control. Like, why would you not say that before you even started?" She lifted her bottle to her lips and took a sip, and then she set it on the coffee table and didn't say anything.

Dave hated when she just refused to answer him. He watched her try to switch yarn colors in her project, clumsily trying to get her needles to cooperate. It probably didn't even matter what she told some poor shmuck before she slept with him, and it wasn't like he cared. Every time either of them had sex with someone, the other got an earful of the details, if for no other reason than to push each other's buttons. Unfortunately for Dave, Rose got a lot more action than he, and even though that didn't actually matter to him, he really hated the way she would rub it in. It had gotten to the point where she would send pictures of herself atop some random with the totally tasteless caption, "I win".

He was feeling mostly pissed, but there was a gnawing in his head that he really wanted to silence. Following the precedent set by every Lalonde he ever knew, he downed his beer and audibly set the empty bottle on the coffee table, snapping Rose out of her, probably really self-centered, thoughts. She was a little alarmed at the sudden noise, and asked, "Do you want another beer, Dave?" He thought out his response carefully, calculating every possible outcome before finally responding, "No. I'd like some vodka".

The next couple of hours were a blur. Dave remembered doing several shots out of a stuffed raven's mouth, and repainting his toenails the same hideous shade of green-black that Rose used as lipstick. The only concrete memory was comparing sexual partners with Rose, and her winning by a long shot. Rose slurred, "Fashe it Dave, I banged everyone you did and then shome". His blood boiled as he tried to think of anyone on his, decidedly short, list that Rose didn't get with at some point. John was a no, and so were Jade, Karkat, that one really sweaty guy, and his weird cat friend. Kanaya was definitely a point in Rose's column. Try as he might, he couldn't think of a single person that he slept with that Rose hadn't.

Then, suddenly, he remembered. "Rose," he spat, "I fucked your mom". She took the news surprisingly well, he thought, as he let his words sink in. He took a swig from some bottle and choked when she replied, "Sho what? I fucked yer brother". She didn't even wait for him to react, continuing, "I fucked him up the ash wish a big ol' dildo an-". Dave clapped a hand over her mouth or, at least he tried to. He actually ended up punching her in the face, forcing her head back and causing her to stumble. It was a hard hit, judging by the amount of blood coming from her nose. Rose, who was holding a hand to her face, said nothing. Suddenly, everything that was hazy a second before was perfectly clear.

"Oh shit, Rose, I'm so sorry," he pleaded. He stood up off of the couch and tried to contain his shock. She looked at him, and then at the blood in her hand, and then back at him, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. "You jush…" she began, still slurring, "You hit me". She sounded confused, and worst of all, hurt. It was all kind of a lot to process, and the throbbing in his knuckles didn't really help. He wasn't paying attention to her at this point, which is why he was totally caught off guard when she quickly closed the distance between them. She stood on her toes until they were looking eye to eye, his shades having fallen off at some point. And then she kissed him. Rose Lalonde kissed Dave Strider straight on the mouth, and it wasn't a shitty, tight lipped, cousin peck. This was a full on, New Year's Eve, virgins at the altar, smooch.

Rose had thrown her arms around Dave's neck, and Dave put his around her waist. He opened his mouth and immediately tasted blood, lipstick, and vodka. The combination wasn't terrible, and he was working on figuring out a way to incorporate it into some kind of creative venture when Rose stopped kissing him. She grabbed onto the back of his neck and whispered, almost purring, "Do it again". It took him a second to figure out what exactly "it" was, but once he did he blushed, and calculated what he would do next.

He let go of her waist with one arm and ran his fingers through her short, coarse hair. Once he found a spot near the top that was long enough, he grabbed on, pulling her back. He looked at her face and decided that he liked the way she looked, spit and blood coating her lips, lipstick smeared on her chin. The dim light of the living room made her bronze skin look like polished mahogany. He jerked her head to the side, exposing her neck. Dave kissed the bare skin sloppily, until he reached the spot where her neck began to fade into her shoulder. There, he scraped his teeth across the taut skin. Taking her shiver as a cue, he sunk his teeth into her, not letting up until she moaned loudly and he tasted more blood.

He bit along her collar bone leaving bruises in the shape of his mouth. With each mark he left, Rose became more and more vocal. Her pants and moans filled the room. Dave felt himself become hard, his erection pressing against the zipper of his jeans. She removed her hands from his neck and dragged them down his torso, stopping to palm at the bulge in the front of his pants.

She broke away from him, his mouth separating from her with a pop. She clumsily undid the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down. Once that part was over, Rose had difficulty actually getting at Dave's dick, because holy shit were his pants tight. The friction of the struggle made him grow harder. By the time she actually pulled his pants and boxers around his ankles and kneeled to the floor, he was beyond ready to go. It seemed like an eternity before she took him into her mouth, but an eternity was worth waiting for what was possibly the best feeling in his life.

Rose ran her tongue over his slit and he shuddered. Her mouth was hot and wet, and her nose was still bleeding onto him. She was moving faster, hollowing her cheeks and digging her sharp nails into the skin on his hips. It was too much for him to handle, but just as he was about to release, she stopped, and she stood up and kissed him again. She tasted like blood and want, and Dave overlooked the fact that she totally left him hanging. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, reaching under her shirt and clawing at her skin. She pulled away and took her shirt off, unclasping her bra and taking it off after throwing her shirt onto the floor.

After stepping out of her skirt, she grabbed the hem of Dave's shirt, pulled upwards, and with his help got it off of him and tossed it onto the growing pile of clothes. He took in the sight of her again; her pupils were dilated, her neck was bruised, and her nose, while not bleeding as much anymore, was dark and crooked. He slammed their mouths together, earning a whimper from Rose as he gripped the back of her neck. He guided her onto the couch, still kissing her, and laid her down on the cushions. Separating from her lips, he attacked her neck, slowly trailing down her body. She shuddered beneath him when he took her nipple between his teeth, and she whined when he moved on to place wet kisses down her torso and stomach, ending between her legs. "Fuck," she moaned as Dave ran his tongue over the thin fabric of her underwear.

He slowly pulled them down over her legs and off of her, to be added to the pile of clothes on the floor. He made a note of the dark color of the coarse hair between her thighs, even though they both knew that neither of them were natural blondes. Her hands tangled in his hair as he licked at her folds. Once he pressed onto her clit, she let out a moan that was downright obscene. After deciding that he rather enjoyed that sound, Dave continued circling his tongue around and around. When her thighs shook and her hips bucked, he decided to do even more.

As he licked at her clit, he unceremoniously slid his index finger inside of her. He took her whimper as a go ahead, and he began curling it quickly. Rose's skin was hot and flushed and her grip on his hair tightened. He added his middle finger and continued moving at a steady, fast pace. While he did this, he grabbed her hip with his other hand as a sort of pay back for the small scratches on his own hips that still kind of stung. She pulled him closer to her by his hair, her nails digging into his scalp. He continued his motions until he felt her walls clench around him. Her whole body shook as she came, and the sound she let out was closer to a screech than a moan, but Dave didn't stop fingering her until she pushed him away.

Rose wasted no time, climbing on top of him so they were looking into each other's eyes once more. She kissed him sloppily before sitting up and straddling him, poising her entrance over his head; her heat seemed like it was dripping down from her to him. His dick was as hard as ever, and a lesser man would have blown his load right there, but Dave Strider was nothing if not a master of not blowing his load before any actual penetration occurred. After what felt like a lifetime, she slammed her hips down to meet his. "Shit," Dave cried when she made contact. She didn't stop though, and her following thrusts onto him were even harder than the first. He would definitely have bruises tomorrow, but he didn't care because actually having sex with Rose was quickly replacing getting a blow job from Rose as the best feeling ever.

When her thighs shook again like they had earlier, he had a thought. He knew that Rose liked taking charge of things, but he also knew that she really, really having him take away her control. Before Rose could cum again, he grabbed onto her hips and lifted her off of him. He pressed her back into her couch and lined his dick up with her entrance. Without waiting, he pressed into her as far as he could, as fast as he could. She moaned louder than she had all night, barring when she came earlier. Her nails found his back, and as he thrust into her she patterned his back with them.

There was little space between them; Rose had her face buried in Dave's neck. She kissed the skin as he fucked her, and latched her teeth there as she got closer to release. Dave's pace was hard and fast, which quickly brought her over the edge. As she came, she bit down on Dave's neck hard enough to break the skin; her scream was muffled by his flesh. The sensation of Rose clenching around him was unbelievable. He managed a few more erratic thrusts before he too came with a groan. When he was done, he collapsed onto her, breathing heavily. "Dave," she breathed. "Yeah?" he responded. "You never did hit me again".

When he woke up the next, or maybe later in the same morning, his head was pounding. After swearing to never drink again, he looked over to Rose, who had fallen onto the floor during the night. Dave chuckled at the sight of her sprawled out and naked with all of their discarded undergarments practically on top of her head. Her neck was coated in bruises and her nose wasn't bleeding, but definitely a little crooked. Dried blood and smeared lipstick were all over her face. He carefully walked over to the clothes pile and dug for his jeans, and, his phone.

Rose woke up dressed and in Dave's car. "What," she began, before Dave interrupted her. "We're on the way to the doctor's, for your nose," he said. She nodded and dug in her jacket pocket for her phone. She had one message, a picture from Dave. When she opened it, her jaw dropped. Dave kept focusing on the road, but in as straight a voice as humanly possible, he said, "I win".

**A/N: Wow there are a lot of my personal head canons in there, sorry not sorry.**


End file.
